


Way Down

by unfortunatelystillstuckin200



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anorexia, Anxiety, Depression, Eating Disorders, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loneliness, M/M, Past Mikey Way/Pete Wentz, Sad, mikey way is sad, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 20:01:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21041948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfortunatelystillstuckin200/pseuds/unfortunatelystillstuckin200
Summary: if you've read prior works, you'll know.Mikeyway is very sad and very lonley. everything is shit.TW eating disorder, self harm1000 words of mikey feeling bad, about himself.





	Way Down

Mikey feels shitty. More so than usual. He honestly hasn’t felt this bad in two years. When his grandmother died unexpectedly. He felt guilty for not visiting her when she was alive, because he was on tour. But this time there is no reason for him to feel like this. There’s no reason for his hands to shake, or his breath to quaver. No reason for his fingers to silently sneak their way to the bottle of pills or the cigarette pack. He knows he shouldn’t relapse, he has to stay clean. For Kristin, for Gerard, for Ray and Frank. But it’s so hard. Being on tour takes its toll on everyone, but this tour has been hell. From staying in the mansion, and mikey of course getting the worst room, the panic attacks, and the nightmares, and finally having to leave. They made him go home to Kristin, he hadn’t eaten in days and hadn’t gotten sleep in even longer.

But now there’s no going home. No Kristin, no Pete and no drugs. Even since Gerard got clean, drugs and alcohol have been forbidden on the bus. Ray and Frank found it quite easy, but for Mikey it was harder than anything else. He has some pills stocked away in his bunk, and there’s some long forgotten booze in a cabinet that usually only contains toilet paper. And now he wants to die. The pills are running out, and there’s no way to get more for another few days, and his resistance is so high that chugging the entire bottle would numb him for only a few hours. 

Every show is a pain, every night in the bunk is hell, every meal makes him feel nauseous. He has never had an eating disorder, but nowadays food just seems to weigh him down. He likes the feeling of being empty, and how black spots sometimes dance in front of his eyes. It makes him feel in control. He has also not hurt himself since ninth grade, but suddenly every sharp object seems so inviting. He catches himself staring at kitchen knives or razors, but he doesn’t give in. not yet. He knows that he’ll need it more later. That it will feel better when he needs it more. For now the starving, empty feeling is enough. 

Sure, he has the occasional dinner with the guys, but every bite seems to make him a million times heavier. He hasn’t thrown it up yet, but he knows that one day soon his body will finally make him get rid of the food, because he feels so incredibly sick every time he eats more than a cereal bar. Playing bass seems harder and harder for every day that passes, like his arms are having trouble only holding the guitar, and his fingers seem slow and behind. Everything he plays sounds like shit, and he’s off beat more than a few times every show. No one really seems to notice, thankfully, as he usually stands still on stage, while everyone else runs around like crazy. No one really pays attention to him, and that’s how he wants it. 

Getting in and out of his bunk feels harder, and he starts falling asleep on the small couch in the bus, some nights Gerard carries him to bed, but doesn’t notice how light his little brother has become. Mikey has always been skinny, bony and tired. So no one sees how his eyes seem to have sunk in and his ribs suddenly poke out, but he knows this is the only way to stay in control. No more drugs or booze, only ice water and cigarettes. They make him feel empty and light, and good. It’s the only thing that makes him feel good nowadays. All he wants to do is go home to Kristin and feel okay again. 

But there’s almost an entire year left of the tour. He feels alone, even when surrounded by his best friends. He feels as if he is completely isolated from the world, and the fact that his friends aren’t checking up on him. They assume he’s fine, and in the beginning, that’s what he wanted. He wanted to seem okay and happy, but now he honestly wants help. It’s too late. He can’t turn back now, can’t go back to rehab or go home. Kristin would be so worried. She would notice how slim he has become. It would feel so good to have someone care about him for once.

The bunk feels empty and cold, even when he has all the pillows and blankets he can find. He’s colder than usual, shivering with his bony hands gripping the covers to pull them as close as possible, to maybe simulate human warmth.

A few years ago, he would’ve crawled into his older brother’s bunk with him, letting himself be hugged tightly, feeling safe. But he knows that Gerard is busy with other things now. And Mikey feels childish for the pang of jealousy he feels when Gerard seems to be spending so much time with everyone else. He has always been Mikey’s best friend in life. But now MIkey is left all alone. 

Bus call seems to be later and later every night, and Mikey seems to be alone more and more. He stays in, too exhausted to get out of bed except for the vital necessities like bathroom breaks and the occasional apple. He misses almost every soundcheck, but no one comes looking for him. Sometimes he gets a few angry texts from his brother, but he ignores them every time. 

Standing up is hard, his knees keep shaking, his limbs feel heavy, unmovable, and his brain is in a constant haze, like a zombie. His brain sends the same message over and over ‘just lay down, you don’t have to do this, you can just find some shady drug dealer and this will feel so much better.’ he ignores it during shows, trying to do his signature weird-knees thing, without letting the fans see how tired he is. 

His usually tight skinny jeans are too big, and he steals some emo-ass looking belt from Frank with a bat as a buckle to keep his pants from annoyingly work their way down from his hip bones. Everything is shit. He wants to genuinely die for the first time in years.


End file.
